


The Other Scholar

by lavendersblossoming



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bisexual Trevor Belmont, Drinking, Dude got his family massacred. He needs to FUCK., First Time, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Jealousy, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Post-Battle of Gresit, Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-Season/Series 02, Rough Kissing, Teasing, Threats of Cuckolding, Trev's been through a lot, Trev's got a pregnancy kink, Unrequited Crush, but not really, the b in belmont stands for bisexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:34:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24315880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendersblossoming/pseuds/lavendersblossoming
Summary: Arn doesn't see eye-to-eye with Trevor Belmont. Trevor, however, has all eyes on the Speaker.
Relationships: Trevor Belmont/Arn
Kudos: 8





	The Other Scholar

**Author's Note:**

> Remember that cute dark-haired Speaker boy that argues with Trevor in Season 1? He needs some lovin'. He's such a cutie.
> 
> Also I inject some of my own Speaker headcanons into this fic, pertaining to how they marry off their members, sorta.

In twenty-four hours, the caravan was set to leave, and Arn wouldn’t see Sypha for God knows how long. She was a strong, well-traveled Speaker, and knew her way with more spells than the rest of the group combined. He knew she could fend for herself. However, he’d miss her dearly.

Ever since they were children, the two were inseparable. Always hand-in-hand, dragging each other around whatever towns the caravan had stopped in. Sypha would show Arn the new spells that she learned, and he was always amazed. She was his best friend. When she turned eleven, the changes started to hit, and Arn realized he had a crush on Sypha. However, the leader of the caravan was also Sypha’s grandfather, and would have Arn’s head if he made a move on her. Yes, Speakers were always in the interest of improving their numbers, but their sect was quite particular about mating habits. The elder would choose couples to have children together at specific times, but no romantic connection was to be established. Besides, a pregnancy on the road was dangerous, and Arn and Sypha both had witnessed two Speaker women die due to improper care during childbirth.

Not that Arn wished to necessarily have children with Sypha. He mostly wanted a romantic connection. Marriage, perhaps, if she so desired, but he only wished to spend the rest of his days with the bright-eyed redhead.

He was wrapped up in his thoughts as he collided with a brick wall of a man, falling to the ground. “I-I’m so sorry, I-!”

The man turned around. The _Belmont._ The half-drunk oaf of a man who smelled of piss and blood. He no longer had that giant cloak, instead his tunic stretched tightly across his muscled chest. He stared down at Arn with eyes half-lidded, through dark eyelashes.

“The hell are you still doing here?” Arn spat once he realized who he spoke to. Yes, Speakers swore to acts of nonviolence. No, that did not mean Arn was restricted from rudeness. “I thought you had to go somewhere with Sypha.”

“We’re not leaving until your caravan leaves,” Trevor said. “And since Sypha’s grandfather didn’t want to leave until tomorrow, we’re staying the night as well. Helping clean up as well.”

“Well, aren’t you altruistic,” Arn huffed. “Where is she?”

“Hell if I know. Helping someone, probably,” Trevor said. “We’ll be staying at the inn tonight if you want to have dinner with us and say goodbye to her. She mentioned that you’re her friend.”

“Yeah… I am,” Arn said. “Dinner, huh? I’ll… think about it.”

“Alright, then. You’re Arn, right? I’m Trevor,” he said, holding out his large, calloused hand. “Sorry to have been an ass to you yesterday.”

“‘S fine,” the Speaker shrugged, shaking the hunter’s hand. “Nice to meet you. Look, I need to help pack. I’ll stop by tonight to say goodbye to Sypha.”

“You do that,” Trevor replied. Arn turned and left, acutely aware of Trevor’s eyes resting upon him.

* * *

The Elder lent Arn some money to have a proper meal. The fund of the Speakers was communal, and one had to gain approval to spend anything. He opened the door to the inn and quickly found Sypha sitting at a table with the Belmont.

“Arnie!” Sypha cheered, getting up to throw her arms around her friend. “Trevor said you’d come! Ooo, I’m going to miss you!”

“I can’t let you leave without a proper send-off,” Arn replied. He hugged his best friend and gave her a squeeze before leaning in for a kiss. He closed his eyes, feeling his lips brush up against soft skin.

Her cheek.

She had turned her head.

“Aw, Arnie,” Sypha cooed. She gave her best friend a kiss on the cheek as well. “Let’s eat, huh?”

A waitress came over soon after, taking the orders of the three. Arn was surprised that the inn’s tavern was already back and running after the night creature attack, but he supposed that after a long day of rebuilding, people would want a nice meal cooked by someone else.

“So… the elder said you’re to fulfill the prophecy,” Arn said.

“Yes,” Sypha responded. “I suppose it was only luck that I fit the role of the scholar.”

“You’re the only magician in our caravan,” Arn said. “It makes sense. Where is the fabled sleeping soldier, anyway?”

“His room,” Trevor said. “He doesn’t seem like much of a socialite. Holed himself up as soon as we gave him the money for a room.”

“By the way,” Arn said, turning to Sypha. “Did you get money for a room?”

“We only had enough for two, and Alucard didn’t seem keen on sharing,” Sypha said as she bit her lip. “I’m sharing with Belmont here.”

“Just call me Trevor,” the large man said as Arn’s brown eyes shot a glare at him.

Arn pulled out his coin purse. “The elder lent me quite a bit. Maybe you can get your own room? The one with the comfiest bed. You’ll need the rest, especially after all the fighting you’ve done.”

“Thank you,” Sypha replied, taking the money. “I hope my room would have a nice bath like the one Belmont got. They actually have warm water here! And it would be nice to sleep alone rather than next to someone. Keep all the blankets to myself.”

“You do that anyway,” Trevor grunted. “I swear, how do you Speakers all put up with each other, nested together like a bundle of squirrels?”

“The other ladies in our caravan complain about Sypha’s sleeping habits as well,” Arn said. “Alejandra is always going on about you rubbing your feet against her.” His heart fell as the realization that Sypha had already shared a bed with Trevor set in. He knew she had stayed at the inn the night prior, with Trevor no less, but he didn’t really process the fact that they slept together, in the simplest definition of the term.

“God, she did that to me last night,” Trevor said. “Nearly pushed her off the bed in response.”

“Maybe if you weren’t snoring so hard,” Sypha teased. “And if you didn’t cuddle up next to me! If anyone’s a squirrel, it’s you.” Arn could’ve sworn he saw a smirk cross Trevor’s face.

The meal was nice and warm, a stark difference from the usual meals Speakers ate. It felt nice to have a belly full of warm, cooked meat. When the waitress offered them some mead on the house, thanks to their work helping out the townsfolk, Arn turned his nose up at the drink. Elder Belnades restricted consumption of alcohol after one of their old members got so horribly drunk that he ended up vomiting on the side of the road. Surprisingly, Sypha asked for half a mug, and had downed it over the course of the meal.

“I’ll go check out the new room,” Sypha said, blushing furiously from the alcohol. “You two… I don’t care what you do.”

“Oh god, she’s drunk,” Arn groaned as the female Speaker went upstairs. “I guess I’ll go.”

“Actually, I need your assistance with something,” Trevor said. He beckoned Arn, getting up from the table.

“What do you need _me_ for?”

“Let me show you,” the hunter said. He led Arn upstairs and unlocked the door to his room. “Glad you bought Sypha her own room. Didn’t even have to tell you to do that. Smart lad.”

“The hell are you going on about?”

After fumbling with the key, Trevor opened the door and pulled Arn inside, closing the door behind them, before shoving the Speaker to the wall. “God, I thought Speakers were supposed to be smart,” the man said, his voice a low rumble. “Wish it had been you down in the catacombs.” He pressed his lips to the smaller man’s, slipping a hand under his robes.

Arn couldn’t react, instead melting into the kiss. He slipped his hands around Trevor, putting them on his waist. He leaned in, feeling Trevor’s already-hardened cock against his belly. “Christ,” he said, pulling away only an inch. A string of saliva still connected their lips together. “Warn a guy next time.”

“I know it’s in the name, but do you Speakers have to talk all the time?” Trevor breathed. He lifted Arn and threw him on the bed, undoing his belt. “Ever since I saw your soft, dumb face…”

“Whoa, Belmont, I’m not-!” Arn huffed, entranced by Trevor’s muscled, slightly hairy chest and gut. He wasn’t toned by any means, but Arn could feel the power the bigger man exuded. “I’m a virgin!”

“I’ll guide you,” Trevor promised. His breathing quickened and soon he was left only in his britches. “Get those robes off.”

“Yeah… yeah, give me a moment,” Arn said. He pinched himself as he threw off his robes. The shock of the pain - _he was awake, and about to fuck the last remaining Belmont._

_What the hell was he doing?_

Trevor Belmont straddled over Arn’s nude body. A python of a member sat erect between the brute’s thighs as he slicked his hand with oils. “You’re the only person who’s driven me crazy like this,” Trevor admitted. “Maybe because the majority were women. And half of them tried prostituting me out at thirteen years old. And the other half just used me for their own gain.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Arn asked.

“I’m about to go off and fight Dracula. People say crazy things on the brink of death,” he said, before slipping two oiled fingers up Arn’s rear.

“One at a time!” The Speaker hissed. He relished in the feeling of Trevor popping one finger out. “I’m not that flexible!”

“Not yet,” Trevor smirked. He teased the other man’s hole, watching as Arn’s cock strained against his smooth stomach. He wasn’t nearly as hairy as Trevor was, only boasting a bit of leg scruff and a cute little patch of dark brown hair on his crotch. Arn’s face was clean, too clean to have been shaven. “You can’t grow a beard, can you?”

“I…” Arn breathed, adjusting himself around Trevor’s fingers. “Only a mustache. Sad one, at that.”

“That’s the one thing I can’t grow,” Trevor mumbled, trailing kisses on Arn’s cheek and down to his collarbones. “I wonder if Sypha is as tight as you?”

Arn’s face flushed bright red and he looked away, but Trevor tilted his face to him. “You love her, don’t you? I see jealousy in your eyes.”

“I have loved her, all my life.”

“Is she a virgin as well?”

“Unless she did something behind the Elder’s back, yes,” Arn said. “You’re going to take her virginity, won’t you?”

“You’d like that, huh?” Trevor teased. “You secretly love that thought.”

“Hell no, I-I-I’d want to do it myself.” He had to pace his breathing. Trevor’s ministrations were getting to him. He felt his head rush in excitement. “I’d-I’d want to…”

 _“I_ would want to get her pregnant,” Trevor said bluntly. Arn’s eyes shot open as he imagined Sypha with a slight, gentle curve to her belly, him wrapping his arms around her from the back to take her in, her leaning back and giving him a kiss, telling him how excited she was. It was a repeating subject of his dreams. And the Belmont, currently in the process of scissoring his fingers and teasing his cockhead at Arn’s entrance, wanted to take it all away from him.

_And it turned him on._

Trevor held Arn up, impaling the Speaker on his shaft. The smaller man wrapped his legs around the larger, squeezing his arms around his neck. He was pushed to the wall as Trevor began to thrust upward. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” he hissed, gasping at the sensation.

Arn couldn’t speak. The Speaker had no words escape him, only moans and groans as Trevor’s cock struck areas that made him see stars. His velvety tongue lolled out of his mouth, matched by a kiss from Trevor. With eyes half lidded, he returned the kiss, feeling heat build up in his belly.

Surely the whole inn could hear their moans by now. Arn wondered if Sypha could, if she knew it was them, what she thought of him now that she knew he let her traveling partner deflower him. 

The sickeningly slick sound of Trevor’s member pulling out nearly all the way then shoving its way back up into Arn filled his ears, accompanied by heavy breathing. They had given up on kissing, instead Trevor hugged Arn to his chest. The smaller man kept his face buried in the crook of Trevor’s neck, squeezing his broad back and digging his blunt nails into Trevor’s shoulder blades. Trevor nipped Arn’s ear, giving him the push to come. Arn’s love splattered across both of their bellies.

“Don’t go,” Arn eventually whined, coming down from his high.

“What?”

“I don’t want you and Sypha to leave,” the Speaker cried. “I love you.”

Three little words sent Trevor over the edge. He groaned a hot breath into Arn’s ear as he finished. He shook the smaller man a little, making sure every last droplet stayed inside. After a few breaths, he slid out of his lover, then picked him up in a bridal carry.

“Where are we going?” Arn asked, doe eyes staring up through heavy, dark eyelashes. He leaned his head against Trevor’s chest, stroking a hand against his pecs.

“Washing you up,” Trevor replied. “Proper thing to do.” He lowered the Speaker in the bathtub and stepped in next to him. Thankfully, it was built into the floor. Gresit didn’t have much, but damn did its inn have accommodations. Arn snuggled up on Trevor’s lap, resting against him.

“This was a mistake,” the Speaker muttered. “Unless you don’t leave. Stay with me, Belmont.”

“I need to kill Dracula, I’m sorry,” the hunter replied, only half joking. “I’m just going to be an old fling that you’ll barely remember in a year. Just a bittersweet memory.” He rested his head on Arn’s shoulder. “I barely remember the people I’ve slept with.”

“Do me a favor. Remember me.”

Trevor shifted in the water, kissing the other man’s cheek. “I’m not sure.”

“Well then, can you try not to have sex with Sypha?”

“Can’t make any promises.”

* * *

In the room next door, Sypha calmed down from her high, fingers still dancing at her entrance. He was her best friend, and she- _to the thought of him!_ And with that brute of a hunter! Although, he _was_ handsome. She wouldn’t mind peeping in to watch the two of them go at it.

God, she was so drunk...


End file.
